True Lies Chapter 2: Faking It, a hunger games fanfic

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Chapter Two, Faking for the Fans

Even as I tell myself I won't cry, I can feel tears leaking down my cheeks. I wish all they would do was form a puddle at my feet. It would be so much easier to mop up than swollen eyes and stains on my face.

Haymitch's breath is on my neck, telling me to hold it in for now. I have to look happy, no matter what, when I'm with Peeta. Compared to Peeta, my home should not be important to me. No, not when I'm with Peeta, because Peeta's all that really matters now. He's all I'm supposed to care about. Not my home or sister, or even Gale. Especially Gale.

The thought makes me swell with anger. I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from turning and running away right now. How can Haymitch expect me to look happy and in love when I'm leaving my home? I've already said goodbye to my family, already cried away my sadness last night. But all I want to do is jump from the train and run to Prim.

"Why not kiss him?" Haymitch whispers, waving happily to the cameras and District 12. "Get your mind off home."

"That won't help," I spit.

"Then try smiling for a minute." He grabs my wrist and squeezes it hard. I look up at the cameras, one hand in Peeta's and one in a pinch, and smile my brightest smile. I wish more than anything that I could spit, too.

"Katniss," Peeta says. It's the first time he's talked to me for hours, and my full attention is on his words. "Don't get mad, but I really think you need to play your part better. You know…act a bit happier."

My smile vanishes in an instant. "What?"

"It's just…the Capitol probably isn't believing your acting right now."

"My act? What happened to your act? Isn't this supposed to be our act?"

"You see, Katniss," Haymitch cuts in. "Peeta doesn't have to play. He's living the part."

It takes me a moment to realize what he means, but when I do I can feel my cheeks flush. I don't see why Haymitch has to pick on me just because I'm not in love with Peeta. There are times when I wonder if Peeta really is lying about it all.

I look over to see Peeta staring longingly at me, his cheeks pink but his eyes completely unabashed. He turns to stare at the floor, and I know that he has never told a lie in his life. He does love me.

Determined to prove to both of them that I can be just as convincing as anyone, I raise my head higher and smile again. Only a few seconds have passed, but I'm sure people have noticed our silence. I pull Peeta into a kiss, longer than usual, and smile at him. My stomach is full of butterflies, because I'm nervous about touring the districts. How long will I have to put this act up?

The doors to the train close, and I hear the driver call over the speakers. "We'll be in District 1 in about four hours."

I break away from Peeta, determined not to cry in front of him. When I'm finally alone, and no tears come, I realize just how determined I am not to cry in front of myself.

District One

is almost as beautiful as the Capitol. Here, I find no Seam or poor part of town. Every building is built tall and strong, every person covered in odd clothes and shimmering jewels. The people are excited to meet Peeta and me, but I can see the hate in some of their faces. We are the winners. To them, we were the ones that killed their children and friends. Even though I'm sure to apologize and mourn with them, I can tell none are convinced.

District Two

loathes Peeta and I more with each step we take into their district. They are beautiful people; it seems they are naturally born that way. I can't seem to take my eyes off of their faces, no matter how angry they seem. I feel small and ugly in comparison.

They all knew Cato and Clove had a great chance of winning. The entire nation of Panem knew that. I can sense them all asking questions about it. What chance did District 12 stand against District 2? I try to think of the answer myself, but every time I come to a conclusion it seems too simple. The Hunger Games were supposed to be about cunning and strength. I had made alliances, and I was cunning, but what had made me win out over Cato and Clove?

I'm afraid I will never know the answer.

When I'm coming out of the restroom before we leave, I see Cato's mother outside. As I walk past her, I hear the wind carry her voice in a 'Thank you.' I shudder all the way back to the train, because I have just remembered the last I saw of Cato's face.

District Three and District Four

are both rushed. We travel through both in only two days, and I assume it's because there were no important tributes here. They all either got blown to pieces in the beginning or died out quickly later on. I try to tell people that I really am sorry everyone had to die, but every time I get close I'm rushed away by an official. It seems an apology just reeks of rebellion.

District Five

cheers politely when Peeta and I make an appearance. Foxface's murder, it seems, was not our fault. I giggle a little when I see Peeta's shocked face, and laugh even more because I realize I haven't in a while. The Capitol will be getting suspicious soon.

I talk to Foxface's mother (I still have no idea what Foxface's real name is; I don't try and ask her mother, either, but instead pretend I know her name), and I find her to be one of the kindest women I've ever met. She hugs me and tells me thanks for winning, because she says she is quite sick of tributes winning on only strength. She says, right before we leave, that she never blamed Peeta for her daughter's murder. She whispers in Peeta's ear, "It was a good way for her to die, I think. Just think if she would have been there with the mutts…." She sulks away, and I pretend I haven't heard anything.

District Six

is full of dust and dryness. I try not to cough or rub my eyes too much, out of respect for the people, but it's harder than ever now. I keep remembering Prim. Only five districts to go, I say to myself.

District Seven

consists mainly of the weirdest people I've ever met. They are quiet and small, like weasels, and they all bow as Peeta and I walk down the steps of the train. They are jumpy and nervous people. I wonder if the Capitol almost destroyed them, too.

District Eight

makes no lasting impression on me. Their two tributes were destroyed in the very beginning, and I sense they hold no hostility towards District 12.

District Nine and District Ten

are two of the most Hunger Games devoted districts I could have ever imagined. In both districts, they have constant replays of all the Hunger Games in the town square, and the people are always talking about the events of different times. I never see any of myself or Peeta on the screen, though, and I wonder absently if the Capitol is making a point of trying to keep our faces off the minds of people as much as possible.

We are, after all, the rebels.

District Eleven

brings tears to my eyes before I even get there. I think of tiny Rue, of Prim again, and of Thresh, who without I would not have won. I cannot help but feel in debt to this District even more than my own. I make it a point of asking an official, before we arrive, if I'm aloud to help out Eleven as much as I can Twelve. He says that there is a limit of food and luxuries for my own district, which will last until the next reaping, and that it can be split between two districts. I tell him that I want him to send an urgent message to the Capitol, telling them that I want most of the food and luxuries to go to District Eleven. What is left in my own district isn't enough for a year, but Peeta and I are allowed an endless supply of food and money, and I am sure that I am allowed to give it to share in my district.

Rue's mother waits in the very front of the crowd. I know it's her because she resembles Rue in such likeness that I wonder how Rue could possibly fit her father in. Then I see him, and realize it at once; he is the smallest man I have ever seen.

Rue's mother hugs me and cries with me, and even though I can feel the camera listening I tell her anyways. "I put flowers on her," I whisper. "I braided them in her hair and s-sang her t-o sleep." I mumble more, but I can't go on because I'm trembling too hard.

"I could not have asked for her to die any better way," she whispers back. "Thank you so much, Katniss."

I kiss her on the cheek and say goodbye, because I know the officials will not let me near her again. I see Thresh's family and hug them all; I apologize over and over in each of their ears for not helping Thresh. They nod and say their thanks.

It seems like only minutes (although it's been over four days) that my time in District Eleven is over. I know I will never see this place again, and I know I will miss it almost as much as my own home.

Before Peeta and I board the train, I stand on the ledge of the crowd and speak as loud as I can manage. "Very soon, you will all be getting enough food and goods for you to all live in happiness for almost a year." The crowd gasps and screams in joy, and I try very hard not to break down. "This is for Rue and for Thresh, both of whom I would not be here without. When you wake up each day, please remember them. Please."

I turn to go, crying enough tears for everyone.

Home

I am filled with relief with the thought of home, but I can feel weariness seeping into my bones. The journey has not been fun at all. I want desperately to see home again, full of the people I love. They will all be well fed and happy tonight. The day I left was the first day of luxury.

I am on the way back to my compartment when I hear Haymitch talking to an official. "When do they stop filming?" Haymitch asks.

"There will be one picture taken when Peeta and Katniss step off the train. For the records, you know. Then that will be it until next year."

"No more cameras at all?" I can feel myself trembling.

"None."

I run as fast as my legs will take me to Peeta's compartment, but he's not there. I run into the bathroom hallway, about to pound on the door when Peeta opens it. I'm breathless, and he just stares at me with his eyebrows raised.

"Peeta!" I say, even though I already have his attention. "There are no more cameras when we get back! We don't have to lie anymore!"

I can see I've said the wrong thing, because even though this is joyous news to me, his eyes fall and begin to water. I have never seen Peeta cry, but I am sure I never want to.

"Peeta…," I stammer. "I-I didn't mean it."

"Don't be a liar, Katniss," he says. His voice is soft, as if it has been broken. He shuts the bathroom door and I can hear the lock click into place.

I lean my body against the wall. I feel as hollow as a shell.

"We can still be friends," I whisper to myself.

Tears begin to leak from my eyes, because I suddenly know that being friends isn't what I want.

I want to be in love.

Please review! Constructive criticism is appreciated!

~Alien